The rift snapped shut behind Erevan with a sound that was… unnervingly simple. Not a slam, not a groan, not even a whisper. Just a flat, final click, like a colossal machine acknowledging that one piece of its code had exited. The silence that followed pressed down on his chest, thick and oppressive, as if the void itself wanted him to suffocate.
His knees buckled instinctively when he landed. The surface beneath him wasn't solid ground. It was… unfinished. A lattice of jagged polygons stitched together by threads of static, some edges dissolving into nothingness. In places, the floor simply dropped away, revealing yawning voids that swallowed fragments of light and color. Reality itself seemed to have forgotten these spaces.
The air was wrong. Metallic. Bitter. Each inhale sent tiny electric shocks dancing through his lungs, like breathing in raw code. Every exhale echoed, too loud, too deliberate, as though the Root had no understanding of sound.
Ahead, the Duck Emperor waddled forward, its feathers glowing a faint, calming blue. In a world gone mad, it was absurdly… grounding. A small thread of normalcy in the chaos.
Erevan let out a hoarse, bitter laugh. "Alright," he muttered, voice cracking from strain and previous battles, "Layer Three. The Root. Totally not ominous. Not at all."
The Codex pulsed violently in his hands. Pages flipped on their own, caught in some wind of magic or will, letters jagged and vibrating beneath his fingers. The text glared at him, clear and uncompromising:
Warning: Anchor stability compromised.
Proximity to Root Data increases system contamination.
Proceed at own risk.
Erevan snorted, half-exasperated, half-nervous. "When have I ever played it safe?"
A laugh erupted across the void. Hollow. Layered. Mechanical and impossible. It wasn't mocking exactly—it was observing, weighing him, savoring the moment. Shivers crawled up his spine.
Towers rose ahead, impossibly high, stretching into nothingness. They weren't made of stone or steel. They were code. Flowing, scrolling, living glyphs. Faces, weapons, monsters—forms familiar yet corrupted—shifted across their surfaces.
Erevan squinted. "Those… are game assets?"
One tower pulsed, rearranging the glyphs into a grinning, mocking image of himself. Then static, and back into raw code.
The Duck Emperor quacked sharply, a sound equal parts alarm and warning.
A system notice flickered before him:
Quest Update: Descent into the Root
Objective: Locate the Anchor Core
Bonus Objective: Survive
"Helpful," he muttered, rubbing his face. The hollow laughter grew louder, pressing from all directions, yet coming from nowhere.
He started across the fractured plain, boots tapping against the polygonal floor. Step by step, he tested each tile. Some flexed unnervingly, like soft leather. Others were perfectly rigid. One misstep, and he'd plummet into the void.
Halfway across, the ground rippled like liquid. Something stirred beneath the polygons, coalescing into shape. Erevan froze.
A humanoid figure rose, made entirely of raw code. Letters and numbers streamed down it like cascading waterfalls of command. Hollow brackets for eyes. Unblinking.
The Root Guardian.
Erevan's fingers clenched the Codex. The Guardian's body jittered unnaturally, a corrupted animation looped endlessly. Then it spoke in a monotone, static-laden voice:
"ACCESS DENIED. REMOVE ANOMALY."
"Oh, fantastic," he muttered under his breath. "It talks like a firewall."
The Duck Emperor puffed its chest, wings glinting faintly. Its glow sharpened. Erevan let out a faint, tired smile. "Right, because a glow goose is my ultimate weapon."
The duck quacked, absurdly serious. For a brief moment, the Guardian paused.
Then reality laughed. The Guardian's body split, forming twenty glitching duplicates, flickering in and out of phase.
Erevan shook his head. "Figures. Of course."
He slammed the Codex open, pages fluttering violently, glyphs crawling along his arms like living wires. One page glowed brighter than the rest. Almost alive.
System Notice: Forbidden Page Activated
Skill: Recursive Summon
Warning: May summon anomalies beyond user control
"Oh, hell," he muttered, refusing to pause. He pressed the page to the fractured floor. Reality tore open. Something emerged. Not a monster. Not an ally.
Another version of himself. Hair wilder, grin sharper, eyes crackling with raw static energy.
"Oh, come on," he groaned.
The clone cracked its neck with unsettling grace, smirked, and said, "Relax. I'm on your side."
The Duck Emperor quacked in disbelief.
Erevan's pulse thrummed against his ribs, each beat echoing like a war drum in the hollow void. The fractured polygonal floor beneath him groaned faintly, as if complaining at the weight of someone daring to walk it. Shadows flickered across edges that didn't exist, and the ambient hum of the Root seeped into his bones.
Step by careful step, he advanced. The Duck Emperor waddled ahead, glowing faintly, casting a soft, blue light over the jagged polygons. Every tap of his boots sent ripples of static dancing across the floor. He kept his eyes fixed on the towers of flowing code, which twisted and writhed with an almost conscious awareness, as though the Root itself watched his every movement.
Then it shifted. Something moved beneath the threads of static, an impossible ripple like the air had gained weight. Erevan froze mid-step, hands tightening around the Codex. The static-coalesced form rose from the fractured floor—tall, imposing, humanoid, but made entirely of raw, cascading code. Its eyes were hollow brackets, unblinking, empty… and yet, somehow, aware.
The Root Guardian.
It stepped forward, a jarring, mechanical rhythm. Each movement caused sparks of raw code to scatter across the fractured floor. Its monotone voice grated against every nerve:
"ACCESS DENIED. REMOVE ANOMALY."
Erevan let out a low, humorless laugh. "You do love your job, don't you?"
The Duck Emperor quacked, puffing its chest in a tiny display of defiance. Erevan's lips twitched at the absurdity. Somehow, a glowing duck had become his sanity anchor.
But the Guardian didn't pause. Its body split into twenty glitching duplicates, flickering in and out of phase, jittering violently, like corrupted frames of an unfinished animation.
Erevan's jaw clenched. "Figures. Nothing's ever simple."
He slammed the Codex open, letting glyphs crawl along his arms like live wires biting and burning, surging with raw energy. One page pulsed brighter than the rest, almost breathing.
System Notice: Forbidden Page Activated
Skill: Recursive Summon
Warning: May summon anomalies beyond user control
Erevan exhaled, his fingers trembling. "I don't ever get a break, do I?"
He pressed the page to the floor. Reality itself seemed to tear, and from the rift, a new version of himself emerged. Hair wild, grin sharp, eyes flickering with static energy that hummed through the Root itself.
"Oh, come on," he muttered, more to himself than anyone else.
The clone stretched, cracked its neck, and smirked. "Relax. I'm on your side."
The Duck Emperor's quack was sharp, incredulous, as if asking, Really? You're trusting that?
Erevan forced a smirk despite the tension. "Yeah, yeah. No choice. Let's see what you've got, copycat."
The twenty Guardians advanced together, glitching violently, forming a chaotic wall of static and raw code. Erevan's pulse quickened. Every muscle tensed. The Codex flared in his hands, glyphs leaping to life, shimmering with searing energy.
He slammed it against the fractured floor. Pages flipped open, glyphs crawling outward like tiny living serpents. The Architect Heart in his chest throbbed violently, each beat a reminder of the stakes.
The clone mirrored his movements flawlessly, wild and unpredictable in ways only a slightly unhinged version of himself could be. Together, they struck, Codices sparking, threads of light slicing through glitching Guardians. The Root vibrated, towers shuddering, fragments of code scattering like shards of broken glass.
Erevan's mind raced. Don't panic. Anchor. Control. Focus.
One Guardian surged from above, raw code cascading like a spear aimed to impale him. The clone reacted first, shoving him aside. "Watch your back! I've got the top!"
The ground beneath trembled as static exploded around them. Shards of the Root spun, twisting into chaotic spirals. The Guardians fractured, some dissolving, others splitting further into flawed duplicates.
The two Erevan's exchanged a fleeting glance. No words, just understanding. Then, in perfect synchrony, they surged forward, Codices ablaze, ready to tear the Root apart from the inside.
The Duck Emperor quacked triumphantly, hopping along floating shards, casting sharp, blue-tinted relief across the chaos.
Erevan gritted his teeth, breath ragged. Every muscle screamed. The forbidden page burned in his hand. This is it. The Anchor Core. They couldn't let the Root win. Not today. Not ever.
The static storm screamed. The battle was no longer combat. It was survival. It was domination. A war of existence.
And somewhere in the chaos, a whisper slithered through the storm: "Anchor me… or become part of it forever."
Erevan's jaw tightened. The Duck Emperor quacked defiantly, absurdly small yet heroic amidst the chaos.
"Let's finish this," Erevan muttered, eyes blazing. "Together."
Side by side, the two Erevan's surged forward, Codices blazing with glyph-fire, ready to tear the Root apart.
The Root was alive. No, not alive in the way creatures are. It pulsed, breathed, and recoiled with every strike the two Erevan's delivered. Towers of code trembled and bent under their assault, glyphs unraveling, scattering into sparks of raw energy that hissed against the fractured polygons of the floor.
Erevan could feel it in his bones—the static crawling across his skin, the Architect Heart pounding like a hammer threatening to shatter his chest. Every strike sent shards spinning into the void, fragments of corrupted code whipping past him like deadly knives.
The clone was chaos incarnate, unpredictable yet precise, wild yet perfect. Together, they moved in tandem, Codices flaring with white-hot glyph-fire. Their attacks carved lines of light through the glitching Guardians, every motion a delicate balance between instinct and control.
The Duck Emperor quacked, flapping its wings in rhythm with their strikes. Its glow painted the fragmented polygons in bursts of electric blue, oddly coordinating the flow of battle, bending the chaotic shards in their favor. Erevan allowed himself a fleeting smirk. Of all things, a glowing duck might just be the MVP here.
Yet the Guardians didn't relent. They multiplied, phasing in and out, some glitching violently as if reality itself could not contain them. One surged from above, another lunged from the side, and the remaining fragments of code twisted in impossible ways, each assault more frantic, more precise.
Erevan's breath came in ragged bursts. Anchor. Control. Focus. His fingers scorched from gripping the Codex, glyphs crawling up his arms like living veins of light. The Root itself seemed to writhe, its towers of code bending and buckling, whispering threats and promises at once.
Then he saw it: the Anchor Core, a pulsing heart of pure, concentrated code, hovering at the center of the Root's void. Light spiraled around it, flickering with a rhythm that matched his own heartbeat, teasing, daring him to reach it.
The Guardians surged toward him, glitching, phasing, threatening to overwhelm. The clone met his gaze. No words. Just understanding.
"Ready?" the clone smirked, eyes sparking with static.
Erevan's lips twitched. "As I'll ever be."
Together, they charged, Codices ablaze. Glyph-fire lanced through the chaos, tearing through corrupted forms with precision and ferocity. Sparks sprayed like molten shards, fragments of code twisting violently in the wake of their assault.
The Duck Emperor quacked sharply, hopping along fractured polygons, feathers glowing brighter than ever. Its absurd confidence was infectious. Erevan felt a surge of defiance. I am not losing. Not here. Not ever.
The Root shuddered violently. Towers buckled. Glyphs peeled off and spiraled like miniature galaxies of static energy. The Guardians' cries, mechanical and hollow, echoed across the void, but the two Erevan's moved as one, unstoppable, unrelenting.
Finally, they reached the Anchor Core. It pulsed faster now, screaming with the intensity of raw, unbridled code. The static around them surged into a hurricane, whipping shards and fragments into spiraling maelstroms of light and shadow.
Erevan pressed the forbidden page against the floor once more, glyphs lashing outward, entwining with the Core. Sparks shot up, blinding and searing. The clone mirrored him perfectly, and together, they anchored the flow of chaos, bending the Root's energy to their will.
The Core resisted. It flared violently, shards spinning faster, twisting reality around them into impossible angles. The air buzzed with pressure, the taste of ozone sharp on Erevan's tongue. His limbs shook, muscles screaming. Every heartbeat of the Architect Heart felt like a drum of war inside his chest.
"You feel that?" the clone said, voice tight, teeth gritted. "It's alive… it doesn't want to be tamed."
Erevan's grip tightened. "Neither do I."
The Root erupted. Towers of glyph-fire shattered, shards spiraled into chaos, and the Guardians faltered, glitching violently as the two Erevan's forced their way forward. The Anchor Core pulsed, almost screaming, trying to push them back into the void.
Erevan's vision blurred. Static flashed across his eyes, whispers threading through the storm: Anchor me… or be consumed forever.
He swallowed hard, teeth clenched. One step. One heartbeat. Anchor.
The Duck Emperor quacked defiantly, hopping between shards, flapping its tiny wings like it could anchor the world itself. And in a flash of absurd brilliance, Erevan realized: he wasn't alone. He had himself. He had the Core within reach. He had this ridiculous, glowing duck.
A surge of glyph-fire erupted from the Codices, binding the fragments of the Core, tethering them to their will. Shards collided in arcs of blinding light. The Guardians screamed, glitching violently, some dissolving entirely.
And then… the Core pulsed one final, massive surge.
The world lurched. Reality bent. Static screamed. And for a heartbeat, Erevan was suspended, teetering on the edge of everything he knew.
The Duck Emperor quacked sharply, wings outstretched.
Erevan's teeth clenched. His hands burned. His chest throbbed with the relentless rhythm of the Architect Heart.
And the Anchor Core hovered before him, trembling… waiting.
[Quest Update: Anchor Core Engagement. Risk Level: Extreme.]
The whispers wrapped around him, coiling like snakes in his mind: "One step… and you either command me… or become part of the Root forever."
Erevan inhaled, heart hammering. He glanced at the clone, then at the Duck Emperor. A small, absurd smile tugged at his lips.
"Here goes nothing," he muttered.
Step by step, glyph by glyph, heartbeat by heartbeat, he moved toward the Anchor Core. The Root itself shivered beneath his feet, waiting.
And somewhere, deep within the static storm, a whisper hissed: "The Root remembers everything… and it will not forget you."